A Joy in His Heart
by SLPikachu
Summary: Sam passes through a town, him and his grandfather defeated a vengeful spirit in, two years, prior and ended up saving a child who turns out be his. Sam's always trying to fix things he messed up. This is no different.
1. Chapter 1

A Joy in his Heart

Everyone has one regret or another in their life. Some more than others. Some want to go back and fix things. Others would rather focus on the future and fix what they can. Sam Winchester was the guy who wanted to make things right. Fix what he did. He never suspected ever having to make something right, such as taking care of his kid. Yes, you read that right. Sam was a father.

It all started during a hunt, at a hospital. Sam and his grandfather, Samuel, had caught wind of a vengeful spirit haunting a local medical plaza, in a small town in North Dakota. This was, of course, while Sam's soul was still in the cage.

Long story, short after helping keep one of the nurses safe, Sam scored that night before him and his grandfather left town. He hadn't seen or heard from the nurse since. How the moose of a guy found himself at a gas station, in that same town, two years later, Sam wasn't sure.

Sam was leaning against the Impala's trunk, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. He was waiting on the gas to finish pumping as Riot snoozed in the front seat. Things were quiet around the small gas station.

When the gas finished pumping, Sam took the pump out and returned it to its hook. As he closed the tank, he heard a young woman cry out. Sam looked up in time to see a kid run out, in front of a car that had just pulled into the gas station. Reacting on his feet, Sam dashed over and grabbed ahold of the small child, leaping out of the way of the incoming car, barely missing them. He watched it, drive pass as Sam laid on the ground, holding the child on top of him.

The young woman who had screamed, came running over, grabbing the child from him and hugging it, tightly, in her arms. "Micah, what am I gonna do with you? Why can't you listen?" She kissed the child, over and over, in relief.

Sam got to his feet, brushing himself off.

"Thank you so much," she thanked him.

It's okay. I'm just glad the kid's fine," he replied, modest. When Sam lifted his head, the woman got a better look at him.

"Wait a minute. Sam?"

His head shot, straight up.

"Sam, is that you?"

"How…?" He got a look at the woman. It can't be. "Clarissa?" How Sam remembered this woman, he wasn't sure. But, his eyes noticed hers. Clarissa had dark blue eyes, darker than anyone else Sam had ever met. There wasn't forgetting a pair like that, even if he tried.

Both of them were in shock. "What...What are you doing?" she asked him.

"I was passing through and was running low on gas, so I thought I'd stop for gas and lunch." Then, it hit him. The kid in her arms didn't look no more than two years old. It had been two years since him and Samuel had been there. Not to mention, he couldn't help notice how much the kid looked an awful lot like him, around that age, according to photos he'd seen.

Clarissa noticed Sam was looking at the child in her arms. "Her name's Micah," she told him. "She's two. Going through the terrible two's, actually."

"Sorry," Sam dropped his gaze to the ground. "I don't mean to stare."

"It's okay. Um, I could probably guess what you're thinking. It's okay. We're doing fine on our own. Really."

Sam had lifted his head. He shook his head, "What do you mean? Is she…?"

Clarissa looked at the little girl who smiled at her. Sam couldn't help see a dimple showing.

"She is, isn't she," Sam finally guessed.

She nodded and looked at Sam. "You don't need to do anything, honest. I remember what you said, last time." Clarissa knew from the vengeful spirit hunt what Sam did for a living and how he never stayed in one place. He hadn't exactly been nice about it, though. But, Sam really did have an excuse for that. He didn't have a soul.

He looked at the ground, again. "Yeah, about last time. I wasn't myself, back then. I'm sorry for the way I acted. I had some issues I needed to work out. But, I'm not that way anymore, and…"

Clarissa shifted the little girl in her arms. "And?"

Sam lifted his gaze. "If she is...mine. I can't just walk away from that."

"It's okay. Really, Sam. You don't have to feel obligated."

"Actually, I do. I'm...a dad." Sam took a deep breath in. Never thought the guy would ever say something like that. "I just lost my brother. And, now, I learn I still have family," he shrugged, "I can't walk away from that."

Clarissa couldn't help smile. "You do seem different from the last time I saw you." She turned to the little girl. "Micah, do you know who this is?"

Micah looked over at Sam. "He save me from car," she replied, happily.

Sam smiled.

"Yes, and do you know what else?"

She shook her head at her mother.

"This is Mommy's friend from before you were born, and also, your daddy."

That piqued the little girl's attention. "Daddy?" She looked over at the tall man who had saved her.

Sam pulled his hands out of his pockets and held them out, offering to hold her. To his surprise, Micah held her own small hands out to him. He took a hold of his daughter, under her armpits, and placed her on his side, holding an arm under her bottom, to support her in his arms.

With a better look, Sam could see Micah had his brown eyes and even his nose. Her brown hair was short, but long enough to droop over her ears. "Hi, Micah. It's great to meet you."

"Hi, fart face," the little girl replied, with a devilish smirk.

Clarissa sighed, dropping her face in her hand. "Micah Rose," she scolded, tirelessly.

"You are, definitely, your uncle Dean's niece," Sam couldn't help snicker, noticing she had Dean's half smile along with Sam's dimples. "Are you giving your mom, trouble?"

"Nooo," Micah shook her head, extending her tone on 'no.'

"Micah, what have I said about lying?" Clarissa couldn't help, smile.

Micah giggled, lowering her head.

Sam looked over at Clarissa, "I was just about to grab a bite to eat. Can I treat you both to lunch?"

"Me-Donalds!"

"Micah, you had McDonalds, yesterday," Clarissa reminded her daughter. "You don't have to do that, Sam."

"I know but I want to," he nodded. "Please?"

Clarissa gave in. "Okay. But, no McDonalds." Micah was still chanting it, over and over.

Sam got an idea. "Hey. You like dogs, Mic?" he asked of the little girl. That quieted her, down.

"Yeah!" she nodded, excited. "Doggie."

"Want to meet my dog, Riot?"

Micah nodded, over and over. "Doggie. Doggie."

Sam carried Micah over to the Impala, to the driver's side. "Come, Riot," he called over to the dog, who immediately stood up and moved over to the window. Sam petted him on the head, "Mic, this is Riot." He showed the little girl how to introduce herself to an animal, letting Riot sniff her hand before Sam gave the okay to pet him. Riot was very gentle with the little girl, too.

Clarissa had followed the two over also petting Riot. "I know of an outdoor barbecue place, in town. So, you wouldn't have to leave the little guy in the car," she suggested.

"Sounds good," Sam replied.

Clarissa took Micah from him, who started fussing. She didn't want to leave her father's arms. "Daddy's not going anywhere. He's gonna follow us to the restaurant."

"Me-Donalds," Micah repeated, sounding like a broken record.

"We're not eating at McDonalds, Micah Rose. We always eat there. Let's have something different."

"No!"

Sam stepped in. "Hey. You don't tell your mom, no, Micah," he told her, firmly, but gently. He didn't realize that wasn't even half of what his daughter was capable of. He followed Clarissa there, parking next to her. Micah was still upset when Clarissa took her out of her car seat. Sam lifted his daughter into his arms, again. "Micah, can you be nice?"

"No," she argued.

"Well then, I guess no dessert after lunch."

Hearing the word, dessert, changed her face, from upset to happiness. "De-surt."

"If you want dessert, you have to behave," he told her.

Micah nodded.

"If you can't behave, no dessert. Got it?"

"Okay, Daddy." Hearing Micah call him, daddy, made Sam's heart, flutter. He hugged her, right then and there, with the arm that wasn't holding her.

Sam and Clarissa headed up to the restaurant. It looked like an old barn someone remodeled. Instead of chairs, around the tables, there were bales of hay to sit on. Micah wanted to sit by Sam. Riot leaped onto the same hay bale, and curled around behind the kid, as if protecting her.

Sam looked over at Clarissa. "I've never seen him do that, before."

"Has he been around kids?" she asked, sitting across from him.

"Not since I found him." After the waiter, who was dressed as a cowboy, took their drink orders and gave them, their menus, Sam told Clarissa how he had found Riot. She guessed maybe Riot's previous owners had kids.

Micah was coloring over her menu.

"What would you like to eat, Mic?" Sam asked, pointing to the list of kid meals. "They have chicken nuggets like McDonalds have."

"Do it come with a toy?" she asked.

"No, love," Clarissa told her.

Her lip stuck out.

"Here, want to see something cool?" Sam was removing the wrapper from Micah's straw, carefully folding it, off.

"What?"

When Sam had the wrapper off, it looked like an accordion. Dipping the straw in his water, he held it over the wrapper and let the water, drip onto it, making the wrapper come alive on the table. It unraveled like a caterpillar.

To a two-year-old, that was the most amazing thing in the world at the moment.

"Me, try."

"It's too wet, now." Sam stuck the straw in her chocolate milk. But, since Micah really wanted to try, he let her try it with his, dipping his straw in his water and handed it to her. Micah held it over the wrapper, watching as the water dropped onto it. "Good job, Mic," he praised as Micah cheered. Sam grabbed a couple napkins and cleaned up the mess.

"More. More," she said.

"No, that's enough," Sam told her.

"More!"

"Hey, what did I say about behaving?" he reminded Micah.

Micah hugged herself, pouting.

Sam offered to play Tic Tac Toe with her, on her menu, picking up the red crayon.

She picked up the blue crayon, stating, "Me, first," and drew an O in the center of the first game spot. He drew an X in the upper left space, which Micah drew an O next to her first one. Instead of blocking her on his next turn, he took the top, center space and Micah took it, winning the first game.

Sam, of course, ordered a chicken salad and after a moment, finally got Micah to choose the BBQ nuggets meal.

While Micah colored, Clarissa asked Sam what had happened to his brother which Sam told her, it was too soon to talk about and asked how she had been.

"Things have been tough, I won't lie," she admitted.

"You still work at the hospital?"

Clarissa nodded. "Still working the graveyard shift. I haven't been able to put Micah to bed since my maternity leave ended. I'd like to switch shifts, but the babysitter I have goes to school during the day. So, she can only watch Micah at night and I can't find another one who can watch her during the day."

"I can watch Micah, if you want," Sam suggested.

She looked surprised by that suggestion. "You're staying, this time?"

Sam thought on it for a brief moment and nodded. "Yeah. I am," he said. "And while I look for a job of my own, I can fit the time I'm available around that."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Sam smiled. "And, whatever you need for Micah, or anything, let me know. I want to make things, right. I promise."

"Thank you, Sam." He couldn't help see tears of relief in her eyes.

"Of course, Clarissa."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

So, Sam watched Micah, that night. He parked beside Clarissa's car, in front of their door, letting Riot out before shutting the car door. There was a guy sitting over on a dining room chair, next to his door, smoking.

He caught Sam looking at him. "What you lookin' at, white boy?" the guy nodded over at him.

Sam quickly, turned away, making sure to lock the Impala before walking over to Clarissa's apartment and knocked. Clarissa answered it and let him, in.

Stepping into the small apartment, Sam saw it was a studio, with one mattress and boxspring on the floor, over in the far corner of the room. There was a TV sitting over on the dresser, with a floor lamp next to it. Off the small living area was a small kitchen, with an even smaller bathroom.

"Sorry for the mess," Clarissa apologized as Sam looked around. Riot was sniffing around the place, as well.

"It's okay." Sam noticed a pile of toys, along with a red Flyer tricycle.

"Don't worry about Danny, out there, by the way," she added. "His bark is worse than his bite." Clarissa turned to their daughter. "Micah, you need to go potty?"

The little girl was over at the pile of toys, playing. "No," she replied, pushing a toy fire truck around the tiled floor.

Clarissa moved over to her and checked down the back of her pants, seeing Micah had already gone. "Come on, love. Let's change your pull-up." She took her by the hand. "We just started potty-training."

Sam nodded. So, his daughter was still in diapers. The guy wasn't looking forward to that. He had never changed a diaper, before. He watched Dean do it, that one time, when they babysat that baby shapeshifter. Doing it on his own, Sam wasn't so sure of.

He wandered a few steps over to the loveseat, sitting on the edge. Sam looked around where Riot was, finding him over in the kitchen, licking up old, spilled food underneath a kid's folding table. Realizing the dog hadn't eaten yet, Sam headed back out to the Impala, going into the trunk and scooped some food into a bowl. He took it, inside, sitting in his same spot.

"Come, boy." Riot came when Sam called, where his food was waiting and started eating. Sam rubbed the dog's back as he ate.

"No. I want Daddy to do it," they heard Micah say.

Shortly after, Clarissa reappeared. "Sam, would you mind giving Micah, her bath?" she asked.

"Uh...sure, I guess." Sam stood up, again.

"I'm sorry. I guess, now that you're here, Micah wants you to do everything, for now."

"It's no problem," he assured her. Sam followed Clarissa into the small bathroom where she shut off the water. She picked up a bottle, "this is her shampoo and body wash." Setting it, down, Clarissa went over to a linen closet, outside of the bathroom, and pulled out a towel and washcloth. She set them on the toilet lid.

Sam pulled his jacket off, taking it over to drape over the arm of the loveseat. He returned, rolling up his sleeves, more. Micah was already undressed, and playing in the bath.

"Have you done this, before?" Clarissa asked.

"No," he admitted.

"It's not hard. You'll do fine." But, she did watch him.

Sam kneeled by the tub. There was a tap on his shoulder. He looked up to see Clarissa handing him a souvenir cup from a movie theater, telling him he could use it to wet her hair. Sam took it, thanking her and scooped some water into it. Taking a deep breath, he told Micah to shut her eyes before pouring the water over her head, using his other hand to shield them, as well. He repeated the process, making sure her hair was wet enough, and picked up the bottle of shampoo/body wash, squirting some into his palm.

Lathering the sweet-smelling liquid into his hands, Sam lathered the stuff into Micah's hair, making sure to get down to the roots.

"Does that hurt, Mic?" he asked, hoping he wasn't doing it too hard.

"No, no hurt," she shook her head in his hands.

That was a relief.

Once her hair was all lathered, Sam rinsed his hands in the bath water and picked up the cup he had dropped in there, scooping water into it. Cupping his hand over her eyes, he poured the water over her head, rinsing the soap out. Sam did it, twice, making sure it was all rinsed out.

While Sam lathered the washcloth with the soap, Micah played with a toy submarine, driving it through the water. He let her continue playing as Sam ran the washcloth over her small body, making sure to scrub the dirt off, and had her stand when he washed along her bottom, trying to make sure to be as gentle as he, possibly, could be. As he did, a memory he never thought Sam remembered, replayed in his mind, of Dean giving him, a bath, doing the same thing. Sam was a little older than Micah is, now, though.

Micah looked up and broke his thoughts. "Why you sad?"

"Huh?"

"You sad," she pointed up at him.

"You think I'm sad?" he asked.

Micah nodded.

Sam forced a smile. "I was just thinking of my brother. He used to give me a bath when we were kids."

"Oh. You miss him?"

He stared down at the washcloth. "Yeah. I do." Sam looked up at his daughter. "You want to know something?"

"What?"

"I bet he'd love you," Sam moved his face in, towards hers, and kissed her cheek, a few times.

Micah squealed in delight and tossed some bath water at her father, soaking him.

"Hey, you little scamp," he laughed.

Clarissa couldn't help snicker behind her hand, trying to hide it.

When it was finally time to let Micah out of the tub, after the two of them played, a little, Sam lifted her out and set her on the, now, soaking wet rug. Clarissa had to explain to Sam, the difference between a pull-up and a diaper before he slid one on Micah and helped her get dressed in a pair of green and blue _surfing Mickey Mouse_ , short-sleeved, two piece pajamas. They moved out to the loveseat, so Sam could place a pair of socks on her feet without them getting wet.

"Hey, Mic," Sam spoke afterwards.

"What?" she replied.

"You know I have to get you back for splashing me, in there. You know that, right?" A grin was spread across his face.

"Get me back?"

"Yup." Sam stood up and lifted Micah into the air, gently, slamming her on the loveseat, pinning her. He then, tickled his daughter's sides and stomach, making Micah squeal with laughter. She kicked the air with her feet as Micah held onto his lower arms.

After a minute, Sam finally eased off. Micah wasn't about to let it end, though. The little girl slid down from the loveseat and tackled her father. When he rolled over and tried to get up, Micah threw herself at him and tried to climb on his back. Sam lowered himself where she could and swung her leg over.

"I got Daddy," she declared.

Sam dropped onto the floor, looking back over his shoulder.

Clarissa had been cleaning up the bathroom while Sam and Micah played. She finally came out when Sam had the little girl pinned, again, tickling her, some more. He learned the hard way how much of a kicker Micah really was. Kicking her feet in the air, her foot, accidentally, collided with his nose, causing Sam, to stop, sitting back on his legs. He moaned as he held his nose.

"Are you alright, Sam?" Clarissa asked.

"Yeah. I'm good," he said from behind his hand. Thankfully, it didn't start bleeding. It still hurt.

Micah hadn't realized she had kicked her father in the nose and had ran around to tackle from behind, grabbing onto him. Sam didn't make a fuss about it since she was kicking because he was tickling her. It stopped hurting after a minute, anyway.

"Where's Micah?" he pretended he didn't know where she was. "I wonder where she went." Sam looked around the room. Micah giggled, ducking from sight as she continued to hold onto him. "Clarissa, have you seen Micah?"

"Gee, I don't know. Micah must be hiding," she played along.

At that point, Micah jumped from behind her father. "I here!"

"There you are," Sam smiled and grabbed his daughter in a big, bear hug, kissing her cheek.

Clarissa couldn't help smile at the scene. She turned to head to the kitchen, to make dinner before she had to leave for work.

Sam saw her and stood to his feet. "Here, let me. Why don't you rest."

"It's not a problem, " she tried to argue, but Sam wasn't having any of it. He eventually, persuaded Clarissa, to sit down and spend some time with their daughter while Sam fixed a box of macaroni and cheese and boiled a few hot dogs.

Clarissa turned on the TV, switching it to a kids' public TV channel, turning on cartoons for Micah.

"Mommy," Sam heard Micah. "I like Daddy."

"You do, huh?" she smiled.

"Yeah. Daddy's funny. Can Daddy watch me when you go work?"

"Of course, love."

Micah cheered as she threw her hands above her head which made Clarissa smile.

Riot was over, lying in front of the front door. Micah scurried over and plopped on the dog. "Hi, Ri-it," she greeted, mispronouncing his name. He lifted his head and licked the little girl's cheek, a few times. It made her giggle. "That tickles, Ri-it."

Clarissa had been watching, making sure neither one hurt the other. "Did Riot give you kisses, Micah?"

Micah sat up, sitting on the floor. "Yeah."

When the food was ready, Sam made Micah's plate, first, setting it on her table. "Food's ready, Micah," he called over to where she was now playing with her toys, again. Micah got to her feet and hurried over to her table. She frowned when she saw her plate. "What's wrong, Mic?"

"You cut hot dogs. I no like that," she shook her head, up, at her father.

"I'm sorry, Mic. I didn't know. Next time, I won't cut them. Okay?"

Micah hugged herself. "I no eat," she declared.

"Well, you're not getting anything else after dinner, tonight," he told her, firmly.

Clarissa had wandered over. She picked up Micah's plate. "This can be my dinner? How's that, love?"

She let go of herself. "Okay. Can I have Lucky Charms?"

"No. Daddy made dinner for us, love. You can't have Lucky Charms."

That didn't sit, well with Micah. "I want Lucky Charms," she stomped her foot.

"I said, no, Micah." Clarissa walked over to the kitchen area and grabbed another plate from the cupboard.

"I no eat," she hugged herself.

"Then, go hungry," Sam shrugged. "You're not getting anything else."

Clarissa leaned over to whisper, "I usually end up letting her babysitter give her cereal, later."

Sam stared at Clarissa, in surprise. He remembered Dean giving in when he wanted Lucky Charms, as a kid. But, when their father was home, Sam never got away with that. Who was right? Their father or Dean? He wasn't sure at that point.

As the adults ate, Micah remained in the same spot, pouting. Finally, she turned around, not liking being ignored.

"I hungry!"

"Micah Rose Reed," her mother scolded. "Do not yell!"

Sam wanted to point out, why was Clarissa yelling, then. But, wasn't sure.

"I want Lucky Charms!" Micah yelled, even louder and started throwing a tantrum. "I want Lucky Charms! I want Lucky Charms!"

Wanting Micah, quiet, Clarissa set her food on the arm of the loveseat and stood up. "Fine," she gave in.

Out of nowhere, Sam stopped her. "No," he said.

She looked back. "If that what she wants."

Sam shook his head. "My dad never let me get what I want, though." Though, instead of yelling at her like John had done to him, he stood up and kneeled to Micah's level, gently, holding onto her sides. "Micah, look at me," he said, calmly but firm. There were fake tears in her eyes as she yelled for Lucky Charms. "Micah, look at me." He grew firmer. "I know you're not really crying." Sam had known how to manipulate his brother when they were kids and Micah was his kid, after all.

"I want Lucky Charms!" she kept screaming.

"You're not getting Lucky Charms. You can have what I made or nothing at all. That's it. Those are your only options, Micah." Sam was trying, hard not to give in. His own father wouldn't. He couldn't let Micah grow up, thinking she could get what she wanted, in life. He knew from experience, life didn't work out that way.

Micah pushed away from her father. "I want Lucky Charms!" She turned and hurried over to the kitchen. Opening the lower cupboard, Micah used that as a ladder, to climb up and reach the box of cereal sitting on the counter.

Sam stood up and grabbed the box out of her reach. Micah jumped down and pounded on his legs with her small fists. He hated doing this. Why did this have to happen on his first day of being a dad? It took everything Sam had, to place it, on top of the fridge. Micah just wouldn't let up.

Things weren't easy for Clarissa, either. "Sam, I think we should just let Micah have the cereal," she told him.

"No, Micah needs to learn she doesn't have authority. We do." Holy crap. Was he becoming his own father? Sam looked down at his daughter and lifted her, up. "Micah Rose, that's enough. You're not having Lucky Charms and that's final."

Micah actually tried to struggle out of his arms and climb on her father, to reach the box of cereal.

Sam realized it and reached up to set the box on its face, so Micah couldn't see it, and walked over to the bed. Kneeling on the bed, Sam set his daughter, down. "Micah, listen to me," he told her, firmly.

Micah squirmed out his reach and rolled off the bed. "You mean!" she spat at him, angrily. That hurt for Sam to hear. Now, it was even harder to keep this going.

"I'm sorry if it seems like I'm being mean, Micah, but I told you what you can eat. I'm not changing my mind."

She hugged herself and dropped onto the bed, crying into the pillow. Sam tried to reach out for her, but Micah grunted at him and he flinched his hand away.

Over in the kitchen, Clarissa had gotten the cereal, down and was getting a bowl from the cupboard. Sam, quickly, got to his feet and hurried over to stop her.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making Micah, a bowl of cereal," she told him.

Sam grabbed the box away. "I know it's hard, Clarissa. But, you can not give in. No matter how hard it feels. Trust me, I hate this, too."

"I can't stand to see Micah upset like this, Sam," she argued.

"That's why she doesn't listen to you," he argued in return. "Because you give in, to her. She does this because she knows she'll eventually get her way. I gave Micah, two options. She can eat what I made or not at all. That's her choice."

"That's cruel, Sam," Clarissa spat.

"No, it's not. If she gets hungry, later, I can warm up the macaroni and hot dogs, in the microwave. But, she's not getting Lucky Charms." Sam held it out of her reach when Clarissa tried to grab it. "Just watch. Trust me, okay?"

Tears were forming as she heard her daughter still crying.

Sam set the box of cereal on the counter and pulled Clarissa into his arms. "I promise. Things will be okay." Clarissa held onto him, crying in his arms. He remembered, eventually, going to his father, stomach growling, loudly, and asking if he could eat what John or Dean had made.

When it was time for her to leave for work, she changed into her scrubs. Clarissa knelt beside the bed, rubbing Micah's back.

"I'm leaving for work, love. Can I have a hug, goodbye?"

Micah sat up and hugged her mother. "I no want Daddy here, no more. He mean."

"I already cancelled with Stormie, love. I'm sorry. You'll be okay, though."

Her lip stuck out as Micah pouted.

When Clarissa tried to leave, Micah clung to her leg, refusing to let go.

"Micah, love. I have to go to work," she tried to tell her daughter.

But, the little toddler kept shaking her head.

Sam wasn't sure how to help the situation. He watched Clarissa, struggle for a moment. Finally, Sam went over and tried to peel Micah away. "Come on, Mic. Your mom needs to go to work." For a toddler, Micah had a strong grip. With both adults peeling her small hands away, Sam managed to lift Micah into his hands.

Clarissa didn't want to leave her daughter in a distressed state, such as that, but staying would only make it, worse. So, she headed out the door, telling Micah, good night and that she loved her. Micah held her arms out towards her mother, now crying real tears. Sam tried to rock the little girl in his arms, to try and calm her, down. Micah just wanted down at this point. Before he did, Sam went over and made sure to lock both the deadbolt and the latch, towards the top of the door. He, then, set her down which Micah, practically, jumped out of his arms.

She hurried around him and reached up to grasp the doorknob, in both hands, and tried to open it. When Sam knelt to her level, she grunted at him and continued to get the door, open. After a few moments, she slid down the door, onto her legs, her forehead pressed against the crack.

Riot wandered over, licking at the tear streaks pouring down her cheeks. Micah still upset, swung at the dog, who backed up. Riot didn't retaliate, though, to Sam's relief.

Sam rubbed the dog's neck as if to apologize, before turning back to his daughter. "Micah, we don't hit, especially when Riot was only trying to help," he told her.

Micah just grunted at him, again.

So, Sam stood up and led Riot away, to give her time, alone, not knowing what else to do. He went over and sat down on the edge of the loveseat, rubbing his face in his hands as he leaned forward.

"I wish you were here, Dean," he muttered, out loud.

Riot came over, nudging his arm with his nose.

Sam looked down at the dog who gave him, an assuring look and barked. He couldn't help smile and reached out to rub his head. Sam, then, looked over at his daughter. Micah was, now, sitting on her bottom, leaning on her side against the door, as she cried, out loud. Her cries tore at his heartstrings and Sam had no clue what to do. He wondered if he did this, at two, whenever his father left for a hunt and what Dean did. Then again, Sam knew his brother. Micah didn't know him at all. Was stepping in during dinner really worth it?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Things quieted down after a while. Soon, Micah grew bored and moved back over to her toys, playing with her fire truck. Sam watched at first. She seemed fine, now. No harm done. But, what her little heart felt like, he wasn't sure. If she was a Winchester, Micah would, surely, not show it.

Just leaving her, alone. Sam headed over and unlocked the door. "I'll be right back, Micah," he told her. "I'm getting some things out of the car." Micah kept right on playing, not even giving her father, a glance. Sam walked outside and over to the trunk of the car. Opening it, he grabbed his backpack and brought it in, relatching the top lock and relocking the deadbolt.

Taking his backpack over to where he was sitting, Sam sat down and pulled out his laptop. For the next hour or so, he searched around the web for jobs, hiring in the area, applying to a few places. Every now and then, Sam would steal a look over at his daughter, who continued playing. It wasn't until around 8:30, did he feel a tap on his knee.

He looked over from his laptop, to see Micah standing there. "Yeah, Mic?"

"What you doing?" she asked.

"Looking for a job, to help your mom, so we both can take care of you," he told her.

"Oh." A few seconds later, she added, "I hungry."

Sam could hear her stomach, growling. Just as his had, all those years ago. "Are you ready to eat what I made?" To his relief, Micah nodded her head. Setting his laptop on the cushion, next to him, Sam stood up and headed over to the kitchen. He scooped some of the macaroni and cheese onto the plate, Clarissa had gotten out, earlier, and placed the last two hot dogs next to it.

"No cutting the hot dogs, right, Mic?" he made sure.

Micah shook her head. "No cut."

Sam smiled and placed the food in the microwave for a minute, letting it, heat up. Once it beeped, he removed the plate and set it on Micah's table where she was already sitting. "Careful. It's hot," he warned. Sam looked in the fridge for anything Micah could have, to drink, with her dinner, once he gave her, a spoon. There was a pitcher of kool-aid on the bottom shelf. "You want some kool-aid, Mic?"

"Yeah," she replied, starting on her macaroni and cheese, first.

"Can you say, yes, please?"

"Why?" Micah asked.

"Saying, please and thank you are nice," he explained. "It's good manners."

"Manners?" Micah tilted her head, a little. Sam couldn't help think of Cas when she did it.

"Yeah. Manners are being nice to someone else. You say please when you want something, and thank you when they give it to you."

"Kool-aid, please," she said.

Sam smiled at that. "Of course." He poured some kool-aid into a _Mickey Mouse_ sippy cup that had a rubber straw through the lid, and set it beside her plate. "What do you say when someone gives you something?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I welcome?" she repeated, tilting her head, again. Man, it was like having a smaller version of the angel.

"That's what you say when someone says, thank you," he also explained.

"Oh." Micah took a drink of her kool-aid before picking up one of the hot dogs, to take a bite.

Letting her eat, in peace, Sam headed back over to the loveseat. He couldn't help feel proud things ended up working out. Things looked rocky there for a minute, but it turned out, good. Sam wondered if his father had gone through the same thoughts and feelings, too.

Fifteen minutes went by, by the time Micah finished her food and headed over to play with her toys, again.

Sam looked up as she walked in front of him and called her over, to speak with her.

Micah came over, leaning her elbows on the couch. Her father tried to help her, up, but she wanted to do it, herself. Lifting her knee, Micah pulled herself up and crawled over to the center of the cushion, sitting back on her legs.

"I really am sorry about sounding mean before," Sam reached out to touch her side. "But, when your mom and me makes dinner, you can't say you want something else. That's actually really mean, too. Did you know that?"

Micah looked at her father, in surprised. "That mean?" she asked.

He nodded. "Well, yeah. We cooked or made something that takes several minutes, and then to say you don't want that? That hurts our feelings. Sometimes, we can have cereal for dinner if your mom and me are too tired to cook anything. But, on the nights we do cook, you have to eat it. Otherwise, your only other choice is nothing at all. Okay?"

"I like eating Lucky Charms," she stated.

"I do, too. Lucky Charms is a good cereal. But, you can't have it whenever you want to. Not any more. You eat what your mom and I make, or you choose not to eat." Sam shook his head. "I'm not trying to sound mean. Life's not fair, Mic. You can't always have what you want. Okay? Okay?" he repeated when Micah didn't answer. She had started climbing on the back of the couch.

Sam wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled Micah, in, towards him, kissing her cheek, over and over. "I love you." He wasn't sure where those words came from, but Sam knew he meant it.

Micah was trying to squirm her way out of his arm, squealing with laughter. It was then Sam realized she had peed herself. He let go, letting her step over to the other side.

"Mic, did you pee?" he asked of her, seeing if she had realized it.

"Noooo," she shook her head and giggled.

"Are you lying?"

She just continued to giggle.

"Come on, let's get ya changed." Sam stood up, setting his laptop where he was sitting, and lifted his daughter, up.

He carried Micah to the bathroom and sat on the toilet lid, setting Micah on her feet. Sliding her shorts, down, first, Sam tore off her pull-up. "Can you do me a favor and try to go in the potty, right now, Mic?" He stood up, lifting the lid.

Micah allowed her father to lift her onto the seat.

Sam kneeled in front of her. "Whenever you have to go, you gotta tell your mom or me. Big girls use the potty," he explained.

"Mommy say that, too."

"Can you try, Mic?" Sam asked.

"Okay."

"Maybe we can do a reward chart or something. Every time you go on the potty, you have something like a treat or new toy," he suggested. "How does that sound?"

Micah lit up like a Christmas tree. "Yeah! Yeah!" she exclaimed, bouncing up and down.

"I have to talk to your mom, first, though. See what she says."

"Can I have an juice pop?" she asked.

"Sure," he smiled.

The two waited for a moment. Sam wasn't quite sure how long to wait for until giving up, for now. It wasn't until he finally did give in, did he notice, Micah was using the toilet.

Finally, when they heard a plop, Micah said, "I do it!" excitedly.

"Yay!" Sam clapped, supportively. He held out a hand to her, "Give me, five, Mic."

Micah smacked his hand, returning the gesture.

"Good job, Mic," he praised and helped her, down, to wipe her bottom. Afterwards, he tossed the soiled toilet paper into the bowl. Once she was all clean, Sam grabbed a clean pull-up and held it out for Micah, to step in before pulling it, up and doing the same with her pajama bottoms, but let her pull them up. "Can you flush the toilet, Micah?"

Micah reached over and pressed the handle. The toilet flushed everything down. Sam had Micah step onto her little step stool and wash their hands before leaving the bathroom. He turned out the light.

Micah dashed over to the fridge and pointed up at the freezer. "Juice pop."

Sam went over and looked inside the freezer. Inside, to the side, was a netted sack of Otter Pops, of many flavors. "No way," he said, out loud, to himself.

"What?" she asked.

He pulled out a grape flavored one. "My brother and I would sit on our friend's porch, on summer afternoons, sucking on these, when we were kids. I didn't know they still had these."

Micah was reaching up for it. Since Sam was a lot taller than her, even on her tip toes, she couldn't reach. "Juice pop," she whined. "Please?"

Sam snapped out of memory lane. "Oh, sorry, Micah." He looked around the apartment for scissors, finding some in a drawer with the other kitchen utensils and cut the end off, above the trash. He, then passed it to his daughter. "What do you say?" Sam reminded her, afterwards.

"Thank you, Daddy." Micah had started sucking on the open end.

Having grabbed one for himself, Sam ate his along with Micah. The two of them had a great time, enjoying their Otter Pop, until Sam noticed something on the fridge, next to a photo of her and Clarissa. It was a couple bills with the stamp, _past due_ on both of them. As the guy scanned through what it said, he realized they were in danger of losing both the electricity and having hot water.

Hurrying outside, again, Sam unlocked the driver's side door, sliding inside and looked under the seat.

Micah had, curiously, followed after her father, leaning on his leg, Sam had sticking out. "What you doing, Daddy?" she asked.

Sam removed the Otter Pop he was holding between his teeth, to answer. "I'm looking for something." He replaced it and pulled out an old cigar box, opening it up. Inside was a load of cash, him and Dean kept stashed there. It was their 'fun' money. Whenever they won money in a poker game or in a game of pool, the brothers would stick it in the box, to use for a baseball game or a rock concert, or whatever they wanted to do for fun.

Taking all the money out, Sam counted how much was there. "Three hundred and seven," he muttered. That should be enough to keep the electricity and hot water. Dean would kill him if he found out Sam had given their 'fun' money away to some chick. Normally, Sam wouldn't. But, this had to do with their daughter. Dean would understand about that, right?

There were some change in the box, as well. Sam decided to leave those, at least, stuffing the wad of cash into his pocket. The cigar box he shoved back, into its hiding place, under the seat. Having Micah move over, Sam stepped out and shut the car door. He led Micah, back, inside, just as the sun was finally setting.

Once both child and dog were inside, Sam closed the door, locking just the deadbolt. Micah wanted to watch a movie, so Sam let her pick out one from the small stack of kid DVDs that was sitting on the dresser, next to the TV. She choose to watch one of her _Mickey Mouse_ movies.

Micah sat on the bed, at first, to watch. After twenty minutes, she stood up and went over to where Sam was sitting on the couch, on his laptop, again. She climbed onto the couch and nudged her head under his arm, to climb into his lap.

"Micah," Sam tried to scold the little girl, but when she snuggled against his chest, sucking on her thumb, it melted his heart. So, closing his laptop, he set it next to him and wrapped his arms around his little girl. Sam looked up, over at the TV, as Mickey and his friends interacted onscreen, doing their thing.

Both of them ended up falling asleep by the time the movie was over. Sam was awaken, around 11:30, to his phone, ringing. He groped around, half asleep. After finding his pocket and fishing out his phone, Sam answered it.

"Hello?" he said, into the phone, without glancing to see who was calling.

"Are you sleeping?" It was Clarissa.

Sam rubbed at his eyes, trying to wake up. His head was back, staring up at the ceiling. "Yeah," he yawned, tiredly.

"Okay, I won't keep you long. I just wanted to call and check in. See how things are going. How's Micah?"

He let out another yawn. "Mic's good. Sleeping."

"Did she end up eating her dinner?" Clarissa sounded eager when she asked.

"Yeah. About an hour or so, later, she came to me, hungry."

He heard Clarissa blow out a sigh of relief. "That's good. Was she good, most of the night?"

Sam placed his elbow, holding the phone, on the arm of the loveseat. "Mic was very good, the rest of the night."

"No problems at all?" she asked, in surprise.

He shook his head. "Nope. She had an accident, but I did get her to poop in the toilet. I know you said, you were in the middle of potty-training her."

"Yeah, she's gone on the potty, before. Micah still won't go without being told."

"Oh." Sam frowned. So, he wasn't the first one Micah went for.

"Like I said, we're just starting. Her pediatrician said not to rush things, as parents are doing, these days. If Micah turns four and she's still not using the potty on her own, then she said, to worry. Until then, keep working with her."

"Right," Sam nodded. "That makes sense. I was, actually, telling Micah, maybe we could do a reward system. Like a toy or candy, or something. She showed interest in that. Micah even asked if she could have an Otter Pop, and then she pooped."

"Micah does love those Otter Pops," she couldn't help smile. "Okay, we can try that. But, I don't think it should be an Otter Pop. Those are her most favorite."

He shrugged, "Then shouldn't that be what we use. If we use her most favorite treat, then that should be an incentive to use the bathroom until it becomes an habit for her. I'm not saying only let Micah have an Otter Pop when she goes. She'll realize, 'if I go, I get a juice pop.' I'll even start buying them, myself, if we need to, so you don't have to buy a ton of them."

There was a bit of hesitance.

"It's up to you, Clarissa. You know Micah better than I do." Sam shrugged, again. "I'm just trying to help. I don't know much about kids, but I think it sounds reasonable."

"No, no. You're right," she assured him. "Trust me. I am, deeply, grateful you're here, Sam. When I found out I was pregnant, I freaked out. I had no clue, either. Sure, I can tend to Micah when she's hurt or sick, or needs comfort. But, the actual parenting stuff…? I suck at it. I'm learning as I go, here."

Sam couldn't help let out a chuckle.

"Great, now you're laughing at me. Am I a mess, or what?" she forced a chuckle, herself.

"I'm not laughing at you," he tried to explain.

"What, you're laughing with me?" Clarissa grinned into the phone.

Sam grinned, too. "Look," he got serious. "Raising a kid seems hard. I've seen moms and dads in public, having to try and control their kids. But, the way I see it, I'd say we'd wing it as we go. Work together to take care of our daughter. How bad can we really screw things up?"

"A lot," she nodded.

"Or, maybe not. My brother looked after me for most of my life, and he was only four years older than me, and I turned out, okay. We'll get through this, Clarissa. I'll make sure both of you are safe. And, that's a promise." Sam looked down at his daughter, sleeping against his chest.

When Clarissa got home, later, around three in the morning, Sam was passed out, again. Micah was still in his lap. Grabbing a blanket from the back of the loveseat, she draped it over the both of them, leaning over to kiss Micah on the side of her head. Clarissa took a quick shower, getting ready for bed, and passed out, exhausted from work.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Days turned into weeks. Sam had landed a job at a bar for now. It wasn't much but it was something. He ended up giving the money to Clarissa and the utilities didn't get turned off after all. She tried to refuse at first, trying to assure him, Sam didn't have to.

"Actually, I do, Clarissa. You need the electricity and hot water going for Micah." He held the money out to her again. "Please. Take it."

Clarissa took the money, thanking him. In return she let Sam stay with them instead of having to rent a motel. Big as he was, it was funny seeing Sam try to sleep on a loveseat. His feet hung over the arms and the guy slept in uncomfortable positions. She felt badly for the guy.

A few weeks after Sam had been working, he and Clarissa had a chat. He suggested getting a bigger place for the three of them. Possibly a two-bedroom. The two had started to grow close and Sam had even asked her out on a date. Watching him interact with their daughter was sort of attractive to Clarissa.

Micah was still a brat, at times. Even after the first night, the little girl still tried to get her way when it came to what she wanted to eat. It took a few days before it sank in that Sam meant business and wasn't going to back down. He had to help Clarissa stand firm, too. Micah did not like that one bit. She held on as long as she could. It was apparent how much a Winchester she was. She fought both her parents, by tooth and nail. There were times when Clarissa wanted to just give in and let Micah have what she wanted. Sam would not let her.

"You can't give in, Clar. You're her mother. We as parents have to make tough decisions for Micah's sake. It's not to be mean, but to teach her."

Clarissa looked at Sam, sadly, and looked over at their daughter. Micah was over on the bed, throwing a tantrum. Instead of giving her any attention, the two of them ignored Micah until she was done crying. It was still hard on Sam as it was the first time. Since it worked the first time, Sam knew it'll work again. And, it did. After a week Micah ate what was given to her without any complaint.

As a reward, the first Friday, Sam rewarded her, by letting Micah have cereal for dinner.

When both Sam and Clarissa had gotten paid and the bills were paid, Sam took Clarissa out for dinner. They got Micah's babysitter, Stormie to watch her while they were out. It was the first time Clarissa had gone anywhere besides work without her daughter. In fact, she was constantly looking over her shoulder as if she had lost Micah somewhere. Sam had to keep reminding Clarissa that she was at home.

"I'm sorry, really," she shook her head as Clarissa held the bridge of her nose, embarrassed. "I'm not used to being without her."

Sam couldn't help chuckle.

That was also the first of many dates. Every Saturday after payday, Sam would take Clarissa out. The next day, in the afternoon, they would take Micah to the park for a picnic.

Micah loved running around on the playground and always called her father to come play with her. The first time they went, she wanted Sam to go down the slide with her. Keep in mind, it was a tube slide made for little children, not six foot four grown men. Sam ended up getting stuck and Clarissa couldn't pull him out.

There were a group of guys over playing a game of basketball. Telling Micah to stay with her dad, Clarissa went over and asked them if they could help get Sam out. Thankfully, they agreed. It was apparent the men worked out which was good for Sam. On the count of three, the men held onto one another and Sam, and yanked good before pulling the giant out. Needless to say, Sam never went down that slide again. Even after Micah said, "Do that again."

"Uh, no." He did not want to relive that experience.

The more time he spent with his daughter, though, thoughts ran through his mind. Every time Micah played. Every time she looked at him. Sam couldn't help wonder: can the demon blood that runs through his veins be passed on? Did it work like that? Could… Could there be a chance Micah might have inherited it from him? Was it possible?

Sam couldn't help think about it, constantly. He did not want it to be so. He wanted Micah to have a normal life as he could possibly give her. Sam did not want his daughter to be some kind of freak like him and wished there was a way to test it.

Even though Sam was tough on her, Micah never stayed mad at him for long. Eventually, when all was forgotten, she would come over and snuggle with him. The little girl had a habit of doing it the most when he was lost in his thoughts or missing his brother.

"You okay, Daddy?" she'd ask.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am, Mic." Sam would force a smile for her.

Micah would see right through it. "You don't seem okay."

"I don't?" Sam couldn't help smile for real.

She shook her head and would step onto his lap before plopping down to cuddle. "It's okay, Daddy. No be sad."

Sam would wrap his arm around Micah and hold her, close. "I love you, Mic."

"I love you, too, Daddy," she would look up at him with her matching eyes.

After a month of watching Sam sleep on the couch, uncomfortably, Clarissa decided to insist on Sam sleeping with her and Micah, on the bed. His feet still hung over the edge, but at least he wasn't sleeping in positions that even hurt to look at.

Sam had also supernatural-proofed the apartment, salting the front door and all the windows. He bought a welcome mat and spray-painted a demon sigil on the bottom of it. Unfortunately, it got stolen the night after he laid it out.

"Who steals a welcome mat?" he questioned the next morning.

Clarissa only shrugged. "I question that, too."

So, Sam had to buy a second one. This time he put it inside the front door. Though, he would have liked if the demon couldn't get in. Hopefully, the salt line would do the trick.

Clarissa was able to, eventually, move to the day shift, at the hospital, while Sam took the night shift at the bar. That was usually when things got interesting anyway. He started out as a bar back, taking orders from customers, washing dishes, taking inventory, restocking, and cleaning the bathrooms. Cleaning the restrooms were his least favorite, especially on a Friday night. Guys didn't have the capacity to aim while under the influence. Not only that, but there was always vomit to clean up. Whenever Sam came home, late that night, he would head straight for the shower and scrub himself clean. Not even Riot wanted to go near him before he showered.

Which, speaking of Riot. The dog was, fastly, becoming a protective family dog. Clarissa even felt safer having Riot around. He would be on high alert whenever people were heard outside. The area they lived in wasn't the greatest place to be in. Sam already had to replace one of the Impala's windows. He had questioned to Dean, once, why Dean never thought to use plexiglass to avoid having to keep changing the windows It was on the older brother's to-do list afterwards, but they were busy saving the world from the Leviathans. So, Dean never got around to doing it.

Riot was, especially, protective of Micah. Whenever Sam and Clarissa let her ride her bike or play outside, Riot was out there, watching her. Like a watch dog, he never swayed too far from the tyke. That was his human pup.

Four months after Sam moved in, he was home, watching Micah, cleaning up the breakfast and lunch dishes. Once those were all taken care of and drying in the dish rack, he cleaned off the table. They still had Micah's little table, underneath, but Sam suggested getting a bigger one so the three of them could eat, together, as a family before he had to leave for work. Micah had to sit on her legs, to reach her plate, though.

Micah came over, carrying her Barbie and Ken doll. She held the Ken doll up in the air. "Daddy, play with me?"

"Sure, Mic. Just let me finish wiping down the table, okay?" he answered her.

"Okay," she said.

Sam finished wiping down the table, spraying it with cleaning solution. Afterwards, he returned the cleaner under the sink and placed the sponge behind the sink faucet. "Now, what would you like to play, Micah?" he asked, walking over to where the toddler was playing with her toys.

She handed her dad, the Ken doll which he took as Sam sat in front of her. Micah then held Barbie up to Ken, and said, "Let go on date, Ken," she said for the doll.

Sam cleared his throat and spoke, deeper, to talk for Ken. "Okay. Where would you like to go?"

"We can go eat food."

"That sounds like a fun time." He turned the doll and moved it as if they were walking to the restaurant. Barbie didn't move. "What's wrong, Barbie?"

"You no wear that, are you?"

Sam pointed Ken, down, as if to look at what he was wearing. The doll had on Ken jeans and a white T-shirt, with a flannel shirt on, overneath, open. Pretty much how Dean dressed. "You don't like what I have on?"

"No."

"Well, I don't know if I have anything else."

"You do. Take off your cloves."

Sam moved the doll from side to side. "Um, okay. Is there a bathroom or somewhere I can change."

"No, take off your cloves!" Micah exclaimed, this time. "Hurry up or we be late!"

"Okay." Ken seemed a little frightened, at this point. In fact, Sam felt bad for his daughter's future boyfriend and/or husband. He then removed the doll's clothes until Ken was down to his painted-on underwear. Barbie returned, carrying a tuxedo.

"Put this on," she told Ken.

Not wanting to anger Barbie, anymore than he has, "Ken" did just that. "There. Do I look nice, now?"

"Yes, you do."

"Great. Do I have any shoes?"

"No shoes. See?" Barbie lifted her own foot up, revealing bare, rubberly feet underneath her long princess dress. "Now, let go." Ken and Barbie walked five steps before they arrived at the restaurant. Barbie sat first, on the floor, followed by Ken. They didn't even wait for their server or waiter. They just started pretend eating. "Okay, now we go to the moon." Barbie stood up and flew into the air.

"Oh, a trip to the moon, huh? Sounds like a fun date." Ken stood up and flew into the air, after Barbie. For a couple minutes, the dolls flew through space. The moon trip ended up turning into a trip into outer space.

Finally, after a moment, they land on the moon.

"Okay, we marry, now." Wow, that escalated, quickly.

"Uh, okay. So, we're getting married on the moon?" Ken asked.

"Yeah." Barbie kissed Ken. "Now, we marry, now."

"Okay. So, now what?"

Barbie pointed her whole hand at Ken. "Go to work, now! We need money to pay bills."

"Um, okay. Whatever you say, honey. Should I change, then?"

"No, that your work cloves, too."

"Okay, well, I'm off to work." Ken gave Barbie, a kiss, before heading off to work.

Micah tossed Barbie over her shoulder. "I bored, now," she declared.

"Well, what would you like to do, next?" Sam asked her.

The tyke answered by getting to her feet and tackling her dad, wanting to play-wrestle. Sam had been teaching his daughter how to defend herself, by play-wrestling. Though, Micah got more enjoyment out of it, then anything else.

"Hands up. Just like that." They raised their fists like they were going to fight. Sam landed a gentle, pretend punch to Micah's cheek. "You try. Punch me."

Micah swung a punch of her own, harder than Sam intended. Thankfully, the kid was still young enough to not do much damage.

Sam still felt it. "Good. That was good, Mic." He held his cheek, rubbing the minor sting out. "Just remember, only use this if someone is hurting you, first. Got it?"

Micah nodded. "Like Harry, at the playground. He alway take my toys."

"No, no, no, no. Not that way, either." Sam stopped her, right there. "Taking your toys is not reason enough, to hurt someone else. Only if they are hitting you."

"Aw. That no fun, Daddy," she pouted, sticking her lip out.

"It's not supposed to be fun. It's supposed to be used to protect yourself. When I'm around, though, I will make sure to protect you. But, when your mom and I can't be there, I need to make sure you can take care of yourself if someone tries to hurt you. Alright?"

Micah nodded, again.

Father and daughter continued wrestling for another few minutes until Sam grew tired and had to rest. He figured since it was getting close to Micah's naptime, he would put on Mickey Mouse and lay down with her until she fell asleep. Well, she did, eventually, fall asleep, but so did him. Sam didn't wake up until Clarissa called, to let him know she was on her way home.

Sam got Micah, up and changed so she would be able to fall asleep, later that night, at bedtime, and got dinner started. It was still cooking when Clarissa got home. She greeted Micah, first, asking what she did that day. Eventually, Clarissa made her way towards the kitchen and greeted Sam with a kiss. They were still looking for a bigger place to move to, saving money on the side, for when they found one. It wasn't near perfect, but it felt like Sam finally found what he wanted. For how long, was the question, though. Being a Winchester, Sam felt he couldn't feel, completely, at ease. Being away at work, freaked the guy out. So much so, Sam called home, every hour, to make sure everything was alright.

Sam still searched out potential gigs, but he just shrugged it off like it wasn't his problem, anymore. It only reminded him, something could get his girls, especially his mini Dean, as he soon started referring his little girl to. If Micah was part Winchester, that meant she was not safe. That was why Sam was teaching her how to defend herself, and when she got older, he would teach Micah, even more. The guy hated he was turning into more of his dad than he would care to admit, but having his own, now, showed him what his dad had meant about keeping him and Dean, safe. He wouldn't go off, at days, or weeks, at a time, but Sam understood. As long as Micah had a childhood, Sam would do what he could to keep her and her mom, protected.

 _ **Sad part is, I had this stashed away, half written. But, when an ad on YouTube gave me the idea with the dolls, I couldn't help think of Sam and Micah. Sorry it took so long to get this out to you!**_


End file.
